


Rule Breakers

by new_kate



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: But mostly fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Karl Thekla saves the world, Karl lives, M/M, Murder and violence, Rite of Tranquility, Schoolboy crushes if school is also a prison, These boys are so precious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 17:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13058835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/new_kate/pseuds/new_kate
Summary: Four Kanders ficlets written forTeam Blue and AngryKandersgiving 2017 event. Standalone but in the same continuity in chronological order.Reposted from tumblr.





	1. The Third TIme

**Author's Note:**

> Day One Prompt: First Friend

The news spread through the tower like a lightning: they caught that Anders kid again. 

Everyone who was in the library crowded to the windows to watch. The Anders kid was in the yard, still chained up in heavy runed cuffs, hunched over under the autumn drizzle. All down his right side his robes were caked in mud, and his whole left cheek was a swollen, blood-crusted mess. The templar who held the end of the chain fastened it to a ring in the wall and left the kid there, tethered like a horse, with two other templars keeping guard.

“It’s his third time,” said on of the apprentices, a boy about Anders’ age, fifteen or so. “He’d been gone for months. We all thought he’d be dead by now.”

The templar who’d gone inside to announce the success of their hunt had come out again, followed by the Knight-Commander, the Knight-Captain, the First Enchanter and a few senior mages. They stood around the boy, talked among themselves for a while, then began questioning him. He kept his head down until one of the templars smacked him under his chin. He looked up and sullenly fixed his eyes on the wall, but he began to say something. Karl tried to read his lips, curious, fascinated, but couldn’t make out anything.

“He’ll get a whipping this time, you’ll see,” the first boy said. “They won’t just let him keep running. Thirty lashes, I bet.”

“He’s not Harrowed,” said someone else, with something like a disappointment in their voice. That was a good point: torturing young, weak mages was how you got abominations. The templars wouldn’t want to be held responsible. They usually left the apprentices to the mercies of the senior enchanters.

“Solitary, then. Let’s see him try to run from there, from the cage.”

The interrogation continued, even as the mages’ robes darkened from the rain. From the way Anders shuffled on his feet and pulled on the chain Karl could tell he was exhausted. The boy fell silent, ignored a repeated question, and received a hard shove to his back from one of his templar guards.

This is a spectacle, Karl thought. All for our benefit. Entertainment, to keep us placid. A lesson, to keep us scared.

“Look at him, all freckled from the sun,” said a new voice. “We’ve not been outside since he jumped into the lake. They better punish him properly this time.”

“They should make him Tranquil.”

“They won’t. He’s a spirit healer.”

“So what, he can do what he wants? They have to do something.”

There was a chorus of agreement. If anyone was friends with Anders, or had any sympathy for him, they kept silent. But then, so did Karl.

The templars led Anders inside the tower and everyone went back to their books, as if they’d all lost interest.

Anders didn’t turn up at dinner, or to any of the classes. Karl checked the apprentice dormitories, the baths, the library, and even tried to sneak to the detention level, but found no signs of him.

If they did make him Tranquil, he might never see him again. A lot of the Tranquil worked in the areas off-limits for mages: the kitchens, the laundry, the enchantment workshop. He wouldn’t ever know for sure what had happened, unless Anders would be put on cleaning duty and Karl would bump into him quietly scrubbing floors or stripping beds somewhere.

At supper Anders suddenly showed up at the dining hall: in fresh robes, his hair still wet from the baths, no brand on his forehead. His bruises hadn’t been healed. On his clean face they looked even starker: black and swollen, striped with drying scabs. A templar at the door stopped Anders, inspected his cheek, nodded and let him through.

Anders filled his bowl, took his bread and sat at the end of the table, by himself.

Their side of the hall was quiet for a moment, all eyes on him while he stared at his food. Once he began to eat, wolfing his stew like a man starved, the talk began again, louder now. A boy from another apprentices’ table finished whispering to his friends and moved over to perch on Karl’s bench.

“We’re throwing him a party tonight,” he said. “Everyone’s invited. No magic, obviously, we don’t want to get in trouble. Just fists.”

“You want to beat him up?” Karl asked, disbelieving. “Why?”

“Did you forget? We were locked in our cells for a week after he ran, until the templars found out how he did it. And last year, with the lake–”

“He didn’t do anything to us. The templars did.”

“Yeah, because of him! That must be why they didn’t let him heal up. To let us know it’s all right.”

Karl swallowed his last spoonful and stood up. He had about three years on this kid, and nearly a foot in height. Besides, he was Karl Thekla. They knew who he was.

“Nobody touches him,” he said, just loudly enough. He stared the kid down until he ducked his head and quietly slunk away. Then Karl went over to sit next to Anders.

He was still eating, visibly struggling to slow down and chew properly. He gave Karl a wary glance and stuffed the rest of his bread in his mouth, as if Karl was coming to steal it. His fingers, Karl could see now, were bruised too, every knuckle scraped bloody.

“Hey,” Karl said. “I’m Karl Thekla.”

“I know,” Anders said with his mouth full. “The best fire mage in our generation.”

“I try,” Karl said modestly.

“They say you could have been Harrowed at seventeen, you were that good. What happened, where did it all go wrong, how come you’re still an apprentice?”

Irwing had been pushing for an early Harrowing, just to show off their fire prodigy. Karl’s mentor had somehow convinced him to wait a few more years. He’d always said: Karl, it’s not about the size of your fireballs. Unless you fix your attitude problem, any third-rate Rage demon will have you for breakfast.

“That was just last year, I’m only eighteen now,” Karl said.

“Yeah? You look about thirty with this stupid beard. So what does great Karl Thekla want with me? Came to tell me to sleep with one eye open?”

“No, you can sleep properly, you’re fine. I wanted to ask why you didn’t heal yourself.”

“Oh,” said Anders and carefully scraped the last of the stew from his bowl. “They wanted everyone to see what there are consequences, and so on. They said it’s this or solitary. I’m still deciding.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Nothing’s broken. I don’t care, it’s just, they said next time it’s definitely solitary.”

“Next time? Are you really going to try again?”

“Yes,” said Anders. “If you’re spying for the templars - tell them, they already fucking know. Again and always until I’m free.”

It was a stupid teenage boy’s boast, but there was some strange music to it that echoed in Karl’s mind: again and always. Until he’s free.

“How?” he asked quietly, and Anders’ eyes lit up a little.

“That’s actually easy,” he said. “Thing is, we’re not guarded all that well. I have about five new escape ideas already. The reason everyone doesn’t run isn’t because it’s hard. They’re just cowards. If we all ran, they couldn’t catch us all. Right?”

“You’re mad, you know?” Karl said reverently. “Do you want to meet up tomorrow in the library? I’m always in the arcane section. We could talk more.”

“Why?” Anders asked and waved his arm around. “Did you not notice the general feeling toward me? You don’t want to be seen with me.”

“I don’t care. I think you’re amazing.”

“Well,” said Anders, grinning, licking his spoon clean. “Then, I guess, I must be. If Karl Thekla himself thinks so.”


	2. Pact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders stops running away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Two prompt: First Kiss

“Escaping is the easy part,” Anders said. “Figuring out where to go, now that’s hard.”

He was in Karl’s bed, resting his back after working on his essay. Karl was still at the writing desk, scratching out the closing paragraph of his argument.

“My parents don’t want me back, obviously, I’m over that idea,” Anders said. “And having a noble patron is far less useful than it might seem. It’s all about going where they can’t find you, even with the phylactery. What do you think about Tevinter?”

“Well, it’s far, to start with. You’d have to get on a boat across the sea, unless you want to go all the way around through Orlais,” Karl said and saw Anders shudder, as any proper Fereldan would. “Besides, there’s all the dark magic, slavery and human sacrifice.”

“Are you sure that’s all true?”

“I only know what’s in the books. Our library is curated by the Chantry, we wouldn’t have anything about Tevinter being lovely. The books agree it’s warm there, though. Lots of fruit.”

“Hmm,” said Anders and fluffed Karl’s pillow under his head.

Anders’ own bed was an arm’s length away: last year they’d managed to swap dorms, and now shared the same bunk. Of course, Anders was too lazy to climb into his own bed when he just wanted a quick lie down, so there were always a few strands of long blond hair on Karl’s pillow. Sometimes cat fur too - Anders had won the affections of the tower’s mouser, and often cuddled and played with him right here.

Anders was taller than Karl now, too tall for an apprentice’s bed, really. When he stretched out like this his feet dangled from the end of the bed just a little. He was definitely getting too wide for their narrow bunks: he’s been putting a lot of hours into his staff work lately, and his chest and shoulders were broad and strong. He looked like a fighter.

His Harrowing was probably soon. He was talented, quick, probably the strongest of all the older apprentices, when it came to the matter of sheer will. Karl’s should have been a few years ago, really, but he’d not been taken yet. It wasn’t anything to worry about, he was sure. He was more than ready. His mentor just liked having Karl as his dogsbody, grading his pupils’ papers and taking over his classes whenever the old man wanted an extra nap.

“Haven’t heard you talk about running away for a while,” Karl said.

“I wanted to wait for my Harrowing before I go again. In case they catch me, there wouldn’t be any talk about Tranquility.”

“Was there? They threatened you with that?”

“They did. I know they wouldn’t really do it, I’m their precious young spirit healer, dear old Wynne isn’t going to last forever, blah blah. But still, they talk about it every time, and I’m this close to pissing myself every time they do, even though I know it’s all just empty threats. So, after I’m Harrowed, they wouldn’t be able to. They’d have no right.”

“They still can do a lot of other things, though.”

“I don’t care. If it’s not Tranquility, it’s worth it.”

Karl finished the sentence, cleaned the quill and closed the inkwell.

“Is it really?” he said, turning in his chair to face Anders. There was nobody else in the dorm - they’d come here just for some quiet. Most of their roommates were at their classes, and they’d kicked the rest out to the library. Karl could pull rank if he wanted. He wasn’t the oldest apprentice, but he and Anders were the First Enchanter’s pets, the gifted kids. That came with perks.

“It really is,” Anders said. “Do you even remember the way the earth smells? Mud, grass, dust after rain, snow. Sun on your face. Rain on your skin. Sleeping under the stars, with nobody snoring next to you, no clanging footsteps in the corridor.”

“I don’t snore.”

“I don’t mean you. If you snored, I’m sure it would be adorable. That’s not the point, I just need to get out. I’ve been taking my time, training, getting strong, putting meat on my bones. Now it’s time to make plans. I think I’m going to head to Denerim first. It’s supposed to be a huge, busy place, it’s probably easy to hide there. I’ve always wanted to see it. The markets, the brothels…”

“Why are you telling me this?” Karl said, frowning from the odd ache in his chest. Even if Anders was only joking, listening to this was strangely hurtful.

“They’re going to question you anyway, whether I tell you or not. Everyone knows you’re my best friend. I know you won’t tell them anything.”

“No, of course I wouldn’t,” Karl said, and briefly wondered how hard the interrogators would push, but that didn’t matter. He wouldn’t talk. “I’m just wondering.”

“I suppose I like the idea that you would know where I’d be. You’d think about me, and imagine me in all those exotic places. And I’d think about you, here.”

He was quiet for a while, and Karl stared at him, waiting.

“The thing is,” Anders finally continued. “I’ll have to go when the opportunity presents, so there might not be time for a goodbye. So I want to say now that I’ll really miss you, and I hope your Harrowing goes well.”

Karl slid off his chair and knelt next to the bed, to be able to whisper if a Templar walked past the room, and to take a better look at Anders’ face.

“Are you really planning to run away again?” he asked.

“I have to. It’s not a whim, I really have to. I can’t wait for my Harrowing. It can still be years from now, there’s no way to tell. I can’t stand it here. Karl, you’re the only one who makes this all bearable.”

“You have lots of friends now,” Karl muttered. Since he’d stopped running, Anders had become popular, well-liked. Everyone loved how funny, sweet and witty he was. Nobody except Karl now saw his darker moods, or the jittery restlessness that sometimes came with all that good cheer.

“I only really care about you,” Anders said. There was a new intensity in the way he kept meeting and holding Karl’s eyes. He still hadn’t moved, just lying there, his hands clasped on his chest, his hair spilt over Karl’s pillow. There was a patch of sunlight from the small high window painting his cheek, making his freckles stand out.

“You’re the only one who makes this bearable for me,” Karl said. “Please don’t leave me.”

Anders’ eyes flew wide, his lips parted - not to say anything, just in surprise - and Karl leaned closer and kissed him.

He pulled back quickly, deafened by the pounding of his own heart, and peered through the doorway to check the corridor outside. A whole cadre of templars could have crept up on them just then, and he wouldn’t have noticed.

Anders grabbed at his robes and pulled him into another kiss. It was a wet, slippery and messy one, and Karl loved it anyway.

“Take me with you,” he said when their mouths parted again. The idea was a flash of inspiration; he couldn’t understand why he’d not thought of this before. “You’ll have to teach me everything about the outside, but I’ll learn. We’ll go together.”

“No,” said Anders, and Karl’s heart dropped.

“Why not?”

“Because - what if they catch us? No!”

“You said you didn’t care what they’d do…”

“I care if they do it to you!”

They stared at each other, almost angry, both red-faced and panting.

“What if,” Karl said. “We just wait until after our Harrowing. Then we’d know it’s at least not going to be Tranquility. All right? The moment we’re both Harrowed, if you want to go, we’ll go.”

“All right,” Anders said after a pause.

“I’ll try to make it more bearable until then.”

“All right,” said Anders again, smiled, and pulled him closer.


	3. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It gave the templars too much power to have something you couldn't stand to lose"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Three prompt: First Love
> 
> Takes place after their Harrowings.

Anders slipped into Karl’s room without a knock, wedged himself between the chair and the desk, settled on Karl’s lap and buried his nose in Karl’s hair.

Karl carefully put down the quill - this kind of thing tended to end in ruined vellum and ink splashed everywhere - put his arms around Anders and gave him a tight, long hug.

“How is it going?” he asked.

“The father confessed,” Anders said. “So there’s no need to continue the investigation. About time, I thought the poor girl would pass out. She’d eight month along, all of that was just… cruel. I have to go get the infirmary ready. I just thought I’d stop by, to pick up my - I just needed to see you.”

Karl nodded and held him close, and tipped his face up for a kiss.

“The infirmary?” he asked after. “What do they want you to do?”

“Oh, nothing to the baby, it’s too late, it’s going to be born. They’re going to flog the father. I’m cleaning up after that.”

“And the girl?”

“Well, they wouldn’t hurt her while she’s carrying. I hope. And then, I hope they’ll accept she’d have suffered enough.”

Karl knew how much Anders loved being a healer. Perhaps it wasn’t even about love or choice - he was a healer by vocation, and he couldn’t help but follow this calling, be uplifted and fulfilled by his work. He’d never been squeamish: he’d change bed pans and clean up sick, stitch up torn guts and fuse broken bones with the same charming smile. It was never the gore or the mess, but the grizzlier parts of human nature that Anders didn’t really have the stomach for. Thankfully, just spending time together, like this, seemed to always help a little.

“Irving gave me another speech just now,” Anders said. “About how this sort of thing between mages always leads to disaster.”

“What sort of thing?” Karl asked, and then took a guess: “Does he know about us?”

“He knows I have someone,” Anders said reluctantly. “We shouldn’t have done it in the infirmary, that was my bad. I told him there’s no chance of me getting anyone pregnant, so why should he care? But he still drones on, I’m setting an example, a precedent for the younger ones, creating the the wrong kind of atmosphere here, it can’t be allowed. Honestly, you’d think I was the only one getting some in this tower. Like I’m corrupting a whole generation of young mages all by myself.”

“Not all by yourself,” Karl said. Having a lapful of Anders’ ass had the usual effect, and he bucked up his hardening bulge just to let him feel it. Anders chuckled and squirmed against him in the best way.

“He says it distracts the templars.”

“How the fuck,” said Karl through his gritted teeth. “Does this distract the templars? From what?”

“Well, I think I know how,” Anders said. “The other day some helmet asked me if I wanted to meet up with him later in the armoury, and when I said no thank you, do you know what he told me?”

“What,” muttered Karl, going cold just from the thought and from Anders’ cool, detached tone.

“He said, maybe you lover will be more reasonable, then. How about that.”

“And,” said Karl, trying not to clutch at him too hard or let his voice rise. “What did you do?”

“Oh, I handled it really well, if I say so myself. I said, yes, ask her, she’ll drop a crushing prison spell on your balls, I hear some templars are really into that. Then I walked briskly into the biggest group of mages in vicinity and stuck with them for an hour, and then I went to the privy and cried for a bit there. I wasn’t going to tell you, but now I’m scared that you might be trying to spare me, by not telling me something. That bastard was bluffing, right? Please tell me he didn’t harass you.”

“Nobody did, nobody threatened me or said anything, I swear. He was just trying it on. Anders, if they try to use what we have against us, I— I won’t let them. Don’t believe them.”

They stayed like that, Anders tightly wrapped around him, breathing softly against Karl’s skin, until there was a clanging of armour outside. Anders stood up and picked up a random book, and leafed through it until the patrol had passed Karl’s door and turned the corner, and then he clung to Karl again.

“Do you think we should kiss other people for a while?” he asked.

“That’s a great idea,” Karl said. “Let’s both do that.”

“It’s not going to change anything, anyway.”

“No, of course not,” Karl said. “Because, you know.”

Because our bond goes deeper than skin, beyond flesh, he could have said. Because you’re my best friend, and always will be. Because your happiness means more to me than my own. Because just the thought of you is enough to keep me afloat. There was a simpler way to say it all, he knew. There was a word for it. Because I love you, and you love me. He could have said it, but that was, really, the root of their problem, so it was best not to.

“I know,” Anders said.


	4. The Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where the touch of Justice cures Karl permanently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Four propmt: AU/Free
> 
> Honestly I can't begin to imagine how much more Anders would have achieved if he'd not been alone and grieving for at least the first three years, but was instead happy with his first love who was every bit as committed to the cause of mage freedom. Also, remember it wasn't the Kirkwall rebellion that started the war - it was the truth about the Rite of Tranquility.

1.

When they were free and safe, catching their breath on the narrow bed after a messy, shakily desperate reunion, Anders offered to remove the brand from his forehead.

Karl traced the raised ridges of the sunburst with his finger. He’d not seen it in the mirror yet, not since he’d been cured, but he’d already made up his mind.

“No, love, leave it,” he said. “It’s fine. It happened, no point pretending it didn’t. You have plenty of new scars too.”

He ran his hand over the recently healed sword wound over Anders’ heart and leaned in to kiss it.

“Love, my love,” Anders sighed, and then the spirit that had mended Karl’s sundered mind was looking at him from his lover’s eyes, its voice coming from the familiar lips. “They’ll never take another mage. We won’t let them.”

2.

In those half-formed dreams he had, before his dreams were ripped from him altogether, Karl had imagined they’d run away together. They’d hide in some village, never again do magic to avoid any suspicion. They’d have a little farm, a cow and a goat, and they wouldn’t need anything else.

Things were different now. Anders, for all that he still was every bit Karl’s Anders, had become something new: more than human now, indestructible, unstoppable, burning with one purpose: to make this world a just one, a safe one.

And Karl himself was changed, new, bare, tender, like a thin pink skin that’s revealed when a scab comes off.

“I’m just… emotional,” he told Anders’ friend Bethany the next day. She came to visit while Anders saw to his patients, likely because Karl seemed too unstable to leave unsupervised. Even just thinking about that brought him near tears, and he had to bite his lips to stop them from trembling.

Bethany, a sweet little hedge mage half his age, patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“Emotions are good,” she said. “Better than not having any. I was like this all through puberty, I remember. Even now if I hear ‘Andraste’s mabari’ at the wrong time of the month, I’ll bawl my eyes out. But you’ll get used to it. Just cry whenever you need, it really helps.”

He wasn’t going to, would hate for Anders to see him like that. But that same night as soon as they kissed again the tears spilt out, burning and abundant, and Anders held him tight while Karl wept on his shoulder.

“I’m not sad, I’m just - too happy,” he sobbed out, and Anders kissed his hair and said it was all right, and soon it really felt like that.

But, whether he was fine or not, they had work to do.

3.

Samson’s name had been passed around Gallows in whispers, from one trusted friend to another. Before he was given the brand, while he’d still been planning to escape with Anders’ help, Karl had counted on Samson to get them out of Kirkwall, provided they could find the money.

“Apparently, if an escaped mage can’t come up with coin, Samson sends them to some unsavoury people,” he explained. “Some of them could be slavers. We need to make sure this doesn’t happen.”

Anders promised Samson any treatment that could ease the pains of Lyrium withdrawal, Karl promised not to burn him alive, and just like that, Samson was now working for them. Soon he brought them their first mage runaways, Feynriel and Olivia, and Karl had students again. Olivia’s father tipped them about the escaped Starkhaven mages, and with their friends’ help they brought them in, too. They all spent some weeks turning the sewers into a decent enough place to live, for themselves and other refugees. Between them they could provide clean water and safe fire, they could reshape stone and light darkness. They diverted the sewage away from the living spaces, widened the gaps in the rock to let in more light, and began trading their skills and knowledge for food and necessities.

The plan was coming together.

4.

A few weeks later Karl felt strong enough to talk about what had happened to him, and asked Anders to take him back to the chantry. There he prayed before Andraste’s statue for courage and then approached the Grand Cleric and pushed his hood off to show her the brand.

“I am a Harrowed mage,” he said. “I was illegally made Tranquil, against my will, by Ser Alric. With, I suspect, Knight-Commander’s full knowledge and approval.”

“This seems highly unlikely,” she said calmly. “You don’t sound like a Tranquil. Are you sure your brand isn’t a fake, child?”

“I… got better,” he said, already trembling, overcome with anger and frustration. “Will you bring them to justice?”

“The misdeeds of the Templars are the Knight-Commander’s domain. You should speak to her.”

“As I said, I believe she had a hand in this.”

“You seem to be here without templar escort,” she said. “Am I to understand I’m speaking to an escaped apostate? If you wish me to start the investigation and have a chance to take this to trial, you must turn yourself in. That’s the proper way to see the justice done.”

“I’m not going back to the Circle. I’m not safe there. That’s where I was illegally made Tranquil.”

“There’s little I can do on a hearsay from an apostate, I’m afraid.”

He stumbled away from her, weeping in strange, inexplicable, helpless shame, and Anders put his arms around him and led him outside, into the light.

“I want to ask your spirit,” he said when he could speak again. “Can murder be justified? Am I consumed by my anger?”

Anders had killed many templars to save him, Karl knew. He’d killed before, too, in his time with the Wardens. Perhaps even earlier, if he was cornered during his many escapes. But for Karl that would be a new line to cross.

“Justice isn’t vengeance,” Anders said. “It’s not about an eye for an eye. It’s about creating a better world. I believe this particular murder would go a long way toward that goal.”

They ambushed Alric the very next day on his way from the brothel. Karl forced him to his knees and pressed his fingers to Alric’s forehead, and set his brain on fire.

He was ill for days afterwards, unable to keep anything down, his hand sore as if his own fire had harmed him. The catharsis had brought some measure of solace, he supposed.

5.

Hawke was about to head out on his daredevil expedition, and Anders declined to go and leave Karl behind.

“Well, without the Warden and the healer this enterprise just became a lot more dangerous,” Hawke said. “I understand, it’s just that I wanted to take Bethany with me, to make sure the templars don’t snatch her while I’m away. Now I’m not so sure.”

“She can stay with us,” Karl offered, and she did.

While they waited they took her, Merrill, a few Strakhaven mages and Fenris all around Kirkwall, trying to dig deeper into the grizzly matter that was brought to Hawke by Ser Emeric.

“If we are to live free among other free people, we have to do our part in fighting those who use magic for evil,” Karl said. He knew Fenris still had reservations about their little commune, and it seemed important to show him their dedication. Karl’s right palm still itched a little, but he mostly ignored it. Solving this crime would be the comfort he needed. “We know a mage is involved. We will find and stop them.”

They kept digging, and eventually came to the end of their search. The dead murderer’s secret room held some remnants of his horrific experiments, and a shrine to a woman who looked disconcertingly like Bethany’s mother.

“Imagine if this creep met her and became obsessed with her,” Bethany said and turned the portrait to face the wall. “Well, she’s safe now.”

6.

Orsino stared at Karl, fascinated. They’d arranged the meeting in the Darktown, and the old man’s huge eyes were watering, perhaps from the stench, perhaps from the same emotion that had Karl on edge of tears too.

“Unbelievable,” he said again. “Karl, I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. But this, this is a miracle.”

“It’s a simple enough cure,” Anders said. “I can do it with a single touch, but summoning a spirit isn’t difficult. Anyone can do it. We can cure everyone, and we don’t have to be afraid any longer. The templars have lost their best weapon.”

“This changes everything,” Orsino agreed. “I will make sure the other Circles know. This can not be silenced.”

“I’ll cure everyone I can get my hands on,” Anders said. “Anyone you can send my way. Afterwards we’ll take care of them right here, in this sanctum we’ve built, among our people. We’ll nurture them through their recovery, help them face the horrors they might have been put through. Make sure they heal, the way they’d never be able to if we send them back to Circles. This is what we’ve been working toward.”

“That’s very good,” said Orsino. “A good start. Let me talk to other First Enchanters. I understand you’re overjoyed to be free and together, and you might not be seeing the bigger picture yet.”

7.

Later that year the conclave had voted for separation of the Circles from the Chantry, and the uprisings were on the way. Grand Cleric Elthina left Kirkwall, fearing for her safety. The Nevarran accord was broken, but the Templars and the Seekers both were in disarray, a lot of them opposing the order once the truth of the Rite of Tranquility was known.

The Gallows stood empty, following a swift uprising of mages fully supported by the new Viscount. Dumar had retired to rebuild his relationship with his son, and named Hawke his successor. Hawke, friend of the mages, darling of the nobility after all the favours he’d done for them, a close friend of the new Starkhaven king and even a trusted ally of the Arishok, ruled well and fair, even though there were rumours that his friend Varric did most of the work. Once the Kirkwall mages rebelled, Hawke sent in the city guard to fight on their side. After a short siege, with the mages who’d not escaped by then holding the Gallows and keeping the templars trapped in the courtyard, the templars ran out of lyrium and surrendered.

For a few happy years Karl and Anders lived and worked side by side, teaching the children, curing the Tranquil, building a community that accepted mages as their own. They penned a few papers together arguing for the rights of mages, outlining their ideas for peaceful coexistence.

“What would I do without you,” Anders kept saying. “I swear, without you, without your love, I’d given up a long time ago.”

“I know you too well,” Karl said. “You’d never give up.”

Still, it was good to know he was helping. It was good to be alive, to be able to love, to be loved. His unruly emotions had mostly settled down, except for one: he was still as overcome by tenderness and desire whenever Anders touched him, looked at him, smiled at him. But that they could certainly live with.

There was a call for help from a rebelling Circle, and they gathered a fighting force of battle mages and set off. Halfway into their march the forward scouts brought back an elf in tattered clothing. He seemed weak and confused, he refused to talk, and he was clutching a strange dark orb to his chest.

“Friend,” called Justice to him as soon as he came near. “I know, this is strange. Like you, I didn’t want a body, but you will see, you will understand the beauty of this world. You will love it. I will help you.”

“What?” Karl asked, but Justice only kept beaming at the man, and didn’t explain. Karl could sense the man’s power, though. Definitely a mage, in need of shelter, food, probably healing. “Well, he’s right, anyway. You’re among friends now. You’ll see, we’re good people.”


End file.
